A Study in Sociopaths
by michellewritesfics
Summary: In hopes of figuring out the mystery that is Sherlock Holmes, John comments about him. Character study.
1. Ambition

_He who blinded by ambition, raises himself to a position whence he cannot mount higher, must thereafter fall with the greatest loss. - Niccolo Machiavelli_

* * *

It's been a few weeks since I moved in with Sherlock Holmes. There's a lot of things I can say about him. Calculating, charismatic, a brilliant liar, witty. And that's just naming a few. Sherlock, above all else, is quite ambitious. Whenever I come back from grocery shopping or having a cup of coffee with Mike, I often find Sherlock either experimenting on something with the microwave or that skull of his, or hear him playing Bach on his violin.

The experiments are usually because he's bored and he has nothing else to do. It's funny at times. Most of the time, it's insanely aggravating. It's like living in a haunted house. You find _fingers_ in the microwave. That's insane. Nearly gave me a heart attack when I found it. Not to mention the severed head that Sherlock "borrowed" from the lab while Molly wasn't looking. I told him to stop. Sherlock didn't listen. I don't know; I just have to deal with him being all psychopathic.

Now that I've covered his easily bored nature, it's time to talk about his ambition. To be fairly honest, Sherlock is ace with the violin. Yes, he wakes me up with his violin at four in the morning almost every other day, but I have to get used to that. Or throw the violin out the window. Trying not to pick the latter. Anyway, I see sheet music cluttered around the floor when I enter the room to tell him to stop the noise. I can tell that Sherlock spends an outrageous amount of time practicing. The bags under my eyes prove it.

It's not only with music or experimenting that Sherlock desires to achieve greatness in. He likes being right a lot. He enjoys finding the little things that nobody notices and using it for his own gain. Takes a keen eye and determination for that.

He doesn't seem to have a limit, that Sherlock. He's always progressing in everything that he does. Probably that's why he's so successful with the whole detective thing. It's not particularly a bad thing, but I can sure as hell tell you that it's not a good thing either.

I'm just waiting for him to reach his restriction, but as of late, I can only grow more tired with each day.


	2. Brain

_The human brain is a most unusual instrument of elegant and as yet unknown capacity. - Stuart Seaton_

* * *

Been roughly three months since I've roomed in with Sherlock. I still stand with my initial judgment of him, but there's something I would like to change.

He's one of the most brilliant people I've ever met. Yes, I know I've said things about him knowing a man's life story by just looking at him or that Sherlock's always solving a case with ease, but this man is just undoubtedly intelligent. It's like Sherlock has every strategy ever performed locked into that head of his. Always the problem-solver, Holmes.

It always leaves me awestruck knowing that he can tell what I've eaten for the past few days - regardless by the fact that most of the times I eat, he's around me - or if I've taken any medication that would help with my nightmares or relieve a minor headache. He can just look at me and he'd be able to point out anything and everything about me. It's almost inhuman to have that capability of knowing so much just by the little details.

I have a hunch. People store things in their minds that seem to be important in remembering, and they use that information in the future. If it isn't important, then it's no use remembering. I'm guilty of not being able to remember a few of my date's birthdays, or hell, even their _names _- yes, shame in poor me, but that's not the point - but Sherlock seems to store every little thing into his mind. The color of the sky, the fabric of someone's shirt, the condition of someone's nails; everything.

It's unnatural meeting up with someone so smart. And not the educated kind of smart, or the book kind of smart, or even the street smart. More like a robot smart. It's like Sherlock's mind works in a way that only a robot can handle. When we're having our regular conversations and eye contact is made, Sherlock looks me over like he's deducing what I've done the past few hours. He makes up assumptions and cancels out the ones that don't make sense, and eventually toss in the most accurate one into the talk.

It's certainly impressive, seeing him analyze something. I always find delight into those things. Love it.


	3. Curiosity

_The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity. - Dorothy Parker_

* * *

Four and a half months.

He hates it when I count the days since he invited me into his flat.

I don't care.

Anyway, something happened today. He redecorated the flat. Yes, completely redecorated it. The wallpaper, the furniture, everything. I was out helping a university mate of mine move in for the day and when I came back in the evening, I found that everything had moved. First reaction: shocked. Second reaction just a few minutes later: angry. Third reaction after about half an hour arguing with Sherlock: defeated. Mrs. Hudson came into the flat and asked what was going on. Had to explain it to her for a good 20 minutes. With Sherlock butting in whenever I finished a sentence. Fourth reaction: pleased upon knowing that Sherlock would turn the flat back to its original state by morning.

He spent the rest of the night moving things with my help. I wouldn't let it go. I'm actually surprised he didn't give a bigger fight with it. When I asked him why he did it, Sherlock said that he was bored. I didn't have a proper reply for it so I didn't say anything.

What I've learned from that night was that Sherlock, no matter how brilliant and talented he is, does indeed get bored like the rest of us. Probably even much easier than the regular man. Then again, he _did _start scratching at the wallpaper one day because he was bored after an investigation with Lestrade. And there was that time Sherlock shot a wall with his revolver. Repeatedly.

Whenever Sherlock isn't bored, he's curious. Well, it appears more like he's demanding, but he's always wanting answers to questions. Sometimes, when he's incredibly curious - or bored, I could never tell with him - he'd repeat questions.

And I do believe I've come to a conclusion.

Sherlock Holmes is a bored, question-demanding, intelligent, and ridiculous - I called him a psychopath once and he insulted me for a good five minutes, so now I have to find a replacement to describe him, but at the moment, let's go with - sociopath.


	4. Desire

_Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained. - William Blake_

* * *

As I've mentioned before, Sherlock is intensely curious. And bored. And other things that I'm not bothering to mention. When Sherlock's in one of his bored moods, it's usually because he wants to be paid attention to. Or he wants to do something that's productive. I'm still debating between the two. When Sherlock's curious, he creates a whole rampage of questions. It's because he wants information.

Want, want, want. That's all he seems to beg for, I think. He wants me to get milk when we're out. He wants me to go to a crime scene with him when I've a date. He expects that I'd pay attention to his every whim. It's more irritating than hilarious, really.

Though, when I asked him why he was so demanding - take note, he hates it when I use that word; like I've said numerous times before, that man's insane - he only replied with a "I'm not demanding; I just appear needy" and proceeded to tell me to shut up. At least he was being honest about it.

Sometimes it has its upsides. Most of the time, it really isn't a delight. God knows how many times I've stayed up for hours on end to listen to his crap, saying that it was important that I should know what he was talking about. Truth is, I don't. And I don't think I ever will. Not with him keeping me up. P.S. The bags under my eyes are more visible.

Sherlock's like a child sometimes. Always wanting to know the answers to either the simplest or most complex questions. And then there's the times that he's always complaining about being bored. I swear, he is a child locked in a man's body.

Even with Sherlock annoying me, it's much more fun with him in some twisted, morbid way. Everything's not so dull. He makes things seem like an adventure. It's nice. Still would rather have him lessen his desire in everything. Just a bit.


	5. Emotions

_The sign of an intelligent people is their ability to control emotions by the application of reason. - Marya Mannes_

* * *

Nearing the eighth month. I'm still keeping count. Sherlock found out about my recent entries and told me to stop working on it, saying that it didn't do him any justice. And surprisingly, I did. But I'm back up doing this again. Hello, hello. Hoping you all miss me.

I've talked a lot about Sherlock's intelligence. What I haven't talked about is his emotions. And as of late, I don't think he has any. For example, just a week ago, it was my turn to fetch the groceries. Walked up the stairs to our flat and tripped. Nasty bruises and a few cuts. Sherlock's response consisted something about the eggs being dropped and having to notify Mrs. Hudson about it.

Because eggs are far more important than an injured man.

Maybe it's just me being a bit angry with him, or it's the physical pain talking, but God, that man is infuriating.

Anyway, I limped my way into the flat. Sherlock looked at me and called me inconsiderate about leaving the groceries on the stairs. This is my friend, Sherlock Holmes, and he's a sodding arse. One thing happened, though. I was more or less hopped up on pain-relieving drugs that Sherlock offered - one of the effects is causing drowsiness, by the way - but I am fairly certain that he asked if I was okay. Bit late to be asking that. In the middle of answering, I almost passed out. Actually, I did.

Woke up with a kink in my neck. Sherlock was already awake. He asked me if I slept well and I might've told him to piss off. It was the drugs talking, I'm sure. Felt guilty saying it because Sherlock looked stunned for a moment. I'm pretty sure he wanted to punch me as much as I wanted to punch myself at that time. Sherlock, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. Still doesn't excuse the fact that you're a complete dick almost 24 hours of the day.

Sherlock, you're a dick. I won't deny that and hopefully, you won't either, but I do realize that you have emotions - why else would you bother to give me pain relievers? - and I suppose I can also say thank you for the medication.


	6. Friendship

_The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed. - Carl Jung_

* * *

Sometimes I question how I managed to become friends with Sherlock Holmes.

I was talking to Mike the other day. We began with small talk and it was quite possibly the most uncomfortable situation I've been in. We never really do small talk, me and Mike, so I really don't know why we went with it at all.

He has a lady friend. Planning to meet her someday.

And in the middle of the small talk, we - actually, _he_ - ended up talking about Sherlock. Mike asked how he was doing. The short answer? Fine. The long answer? A bit sick, but he's doing fine. Continued asking questions about Sherlock. For example, what he does in his spare time. It's no different. Sherlock still uses his revolver to shoot at the walls. Yes, multiple now. He still solves cases whenever Lestrade calls him.

As I reflect back on the conversation - and type this out - I realize that I'm picking up the little things about Sherlock Holmes. And not just noticing them, but I think I'm getting traits from him. I've been insanely bored this past week. And taking care of Sherlock is like taking care of a child who doesn't know how to do anything. Imagine all the chores Sherlock would tell me to do. And I'm _bored._

On the bright side, Sherlock's become more tolerable of others and their "idiocy." Usually mine seeing as he doesn't seem to throw back an insult whenever I ask a narrow-minded question. It's good, I think. It's progress. I think I'm warming up to him. I can definitely say that he's warming up to me. No matter how annoying he is.

I still wouldn't consider our whatever-the-hell-we-have (apparently, I'm not allowed to call ourselves "the dynamic duo") a friendship, but I think it's getting there.

P.S. It's been two weeks since my last entry. Exactly eight months since Sherlock and I met. I'm planning to go out drinking tonight. Without him, of course.


	7. Greatness

_Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them. - William Shakespeare_

* * *

I'm ordinary. I'm an ordinary man. I've seen things that should never be repeated in any sense at all. But that's all. Other than those things that have been thrown at me, I'm just plain John Watson.

Sherlock Holmes isn't like that. He's always doing something that's creating some kind of reaction in others. I can't do that, so when I do something "normal" and I see Sherlock smile, I feel pretty proud of myself. It's flattering.

It's been eight months and a week, just so you know.

Bit of a life update: my entries are getting shorter due to being busy. Working with Sherlock is one of the most exhausting things I've encountered. And I thought I'd be all right with this crap after almost a year. I suppose not.

Back to the subject. Or lack of one.

I think I've adopted a sense of admiration towards Sherlock. People usually do. Until they actually meet him. Sherlock's hated by that moment. I'm one of the people that hate him, too. I tolerate him, however. It's because he's phenomenal. It's because of that damn intellect of his.

As you can tell, Sherlock's able to deduce things by just a look. Not many people can do that. Many people can, at best, suspect one thing by just looking at something or someone. For example, if a wall has dents in them, I can assume that someone has done a poor job at taking care of the wall or has been punching the wall due to anger or stress. Or both.

But Sherlock can - and has, actually - deduced a building and its features. The paint job was horrible, I can tell you that. The building's growing plants from the cracks and spaces between the bricks. Bad job assembling the building, I think. There were other things that he said about the building, but I tuned out his commentary after that.

I'm babbling. I don't know. It's late and I should get some rest, but I'm here. In front of my laptop. Clacking away at the keyboard.

In short: Sherlock Holmes is one of the most fascinating people I've met.


End file.
